


Orestes Martyred and Pylades Saved

by Slytherout



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death, Gen, M/M, but only as much as canon is, can be read as shippy, which is actually quite a bit what
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-20
Updated: 2013-05-20
Packaged: 2017-12-12 09:51:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/810220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slytherout/pseuds/Slytherout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"Do you permit it?"</i> </p>
<p>  <i>"No."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Orestes Martyred and Pylades Saved

_Grantaire had risen. The immense gleam of the whole combat which he had missed, and in which he had had no part, appeared in the brilliant glance of the transfigured drunken man._

_He repeated: “Long live the Republic!” crossed the room with a firm stride and placed himself in front of the guns beside Enjolras._

_“Finish both of us at one blow,” said he._

_And turning gently to Enjolras, he said to him:_

_“Do you permit it?”_

———

“No.”

The answer was spoken softly, so softly that Grantaire barely heard it, that by the time he properly realized what it meant, that piercing blue gaze had already turned back to call to the National Guard.

“Pay no mind to this man. I barely know him, and only then as a mocking spectator of our cause. No doubt he thinks to mock me further even now. He had no part in the battle. Let him go free.”

Horror seized Grantaire, and he clutched the man’s arm as the soldiers looked to their sergeant for orders. “Stop it,” he begged. “Stop, don’t do this.”

Enjolras attempted to jerk away, but the hold on his arm was strong in its urgency, and he only succeeded in causing Grantaire to stumble, balance wrecked by intoxication and terror. Enjolras caught him and dragged him upright, and as the world realigned itself, the skeptic only just managed to register the fervent murmur in his ear of, “I am sorry,” before he was roughly shoved toward the firing squad.

“See here,” Enjolras spat with evident disgust, “you can clearly smell the wine on his breath. He is but a raving drunkard whose only crime is the place he chose to indulge in his spirits.”

This line of reasoning seemed to satisfy the sergeant; at his command, two of the guardsmen came forth to drag the man out of the way. Grantaire could not even struggle against them. He was all but paralyzed by his idol’s rejection, and the only sign of protest he could give as he was led to stand behind the row of guns was to reach out a hand in futile desperation.

“Go from here, Grantaire,” Enjolras said, and while his words were stern, his voice was far from so. “Live.”

“Take aim!”

Grantaire was a man transfixed. He stood rooted to the spot, unable to look away as Enjolras faced his executioners and raised the red banner of revolution high in a final gesture of defiance. “Enjolras!” he pleaded.

Across the room, their gazes met, and with eyes full of unmistakable gratitude, Enjolras smiled.

———

_This smile was not ended when the report resounded._

**Author's Note:**

> I am a terrible person who hates happiness, and that is why this happened.
> 
> This can also be found on my writing blog, [here](obversaire.tumblr.com/post/50884215003/orestes-martyred-and-pylades-saved).


End file.
